I Know the Difference
by astridfire
Summary: Pizonica: A how Piz and Veronica get together from V's POV. Set after Show me the Monkey with speculation for Poughkeepsie's, Tramps & Thieves. If you're antiPiz, you won't enjoy this story.


**Title:** I Know the Difference

**Summary:** a Piz/Veronica from Veronica's POV. Set after "Show Me the Monkey." Speculation for Poughkeepsie, Tramps and Thieves, but nothing that you wouldn't get from the "Next week on Veronica Mars" bit.

**Authors Note:** Yes, yes. I love Logan as much as you do. And yes, I too believe that Veronica and Logan are epic. I never liked Duncan. I liked Leo. I even liked Troy for awhile. And I adore Piz. He's just so darn cute. And guys, listen up, Veronica needs Piz. Piz is going to teach her how to trust. And this will be beneficial for her next go round with Logan. So don't go all nuts on me. It's just fan fiction. I'm not writing the show.

----

I need a favor. I knock sharply on Wallace and Piz's dorm room door. Knowing what I know now, I can't in good conscience use my considerable charms on Mr. Piznarski. So I'll just do what I do best when it comes to boy troubles, I'll deny everything. Logan can see right through that façade anymore, but Piz doesn't know me as well. Maybe it'll fool him.

I hear Wallace inside, telling me the door is open. I plaster on a smile, and saunter through the door, fixing my eyes on Wallace and quipping about the importance of locking one's doors.

Wallace smirks at me and says, "You can drop the act. Piz isn't here."

"Act?" I say, "What act?"

Wallace pins me with his best, "How long have I known you?" look, and I am chastened.

"You're back with Logan?"

"Yep," I wait a beat, and say, "Piz told you?"

"Yeah. He's been all emo about it. Listening to 'I wanna kill myself' music."

I look away, feeling cornered. What am I supposed to do about it? Break up with Logan? Again? Just so Piz will feel…

"Look, Veronica, I'm happy for you. You know I like Logan."

I smile faintly at my best friend, "I know Wallace… I had no idea that Piz felt that way about me."

"Yeah," I fix my eyes on Piz's side of the room, taking in the band posters and his guitar case propped in the corner. I think back to working on Piz's case and realize that I should have known then that Piz had a thing for me. I was too focused on Logan to notice.

"So what'd you really come here for?"

I snap back to reality, "I needed to ask Piz for a favor…"

Wallace sighs and says, "He's at the library right now, but… do you think this is the best time to ask for a favor?"

"No, but I need it," I sigh and say, "See you later, Wallace."

"Be gentle with him Veronica. He's heartbroken."

Wallace is only exaggerating a little, I can tell, and I frown as I leave.

----

I find Piz at a study table, a large book opened in front of him. He's listening to his iPod and tapping out a slow rhythm with a pen. He's either very focused, or in a deep melancholy. He hasn't seen me yet, and I bite my lip in nervous anticipation. I already know this isn't going to go well.

He looks up, and sees me across the room. The pen freezes for a moment, but then he's smiling brightly at me. Just like he did before. I'm relieved. We're both playing the denial game.

I walk over, grinning a little, but even that is hard. He's still smiling and taking the ear buds out and pulling back the chair next to him so I can sit. I do, but it's almost too close, knowing what I know.

"Hey," I say, trying my best not to be sheepish or shy in any way.

"What's up?" he asks, the smile falling away slightly. Cracks in our façade. We are both nervous.

"I need a favor."

He laughs lightly and looks down at the table, "Yeah, okay, what is it?"

I outline the plan for him, and he nods, looking more morose by the second. I know he can't help it. He probably hasn't ever played the denial game.

"Piz…"

He snaps the smile back on, and I'm surprised, "Veronica, I'm glad you and Logan are… I'm glad that you're happy."

I don't know what to say, so I bite my lip and nod, unable to look at him.

"I don't want things to be weird here…" he trails off, sighing sharply. It's already weird.

"I don't either. Piz, you're really—"

"Let's not do that. We're friends."

I smile at him, catching his eyes now. He smiles at me, his eyes soft and regretful. "Yeah, we're friends."

"Good."

I get up from the table, slinging my bag over my shoulder, "I'll see you later then."

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

I walk away, but turn back to look at him when I'm at the library door. He's put his ear buds back in, and his fingers are pressed to his temples like he's getting a headache. I can feel one coming on too.

----

This case with Max's one true love is getting to me. I hate when this happens. He's hopelessly devoted to this woman who has done nothing but lie and deceive him. Even after he hears about the details, he's gung-ho for stopping her wedding.

Betrayal usually turns me off.

It's got me thinking about all the times I've broken up with Logan, and all the reasons why the breakup hasn't stuck, and wondering why it hasn't.

Epic, I suppose.

All of this is compounded by the Piz situation, which has only gotten more awkward, rather than less. I can tell he's trying, and that's only making it worse. We're waiting for a source to show up, sitting on opposite ends of the couch in the radio station. Our postures are very defensive, and I consciously uncross my arms and turn towards him.

I want to say that this is ridiculous. I want to say that I'm a train wreck and he shouldn't waste his time with me. I already know that Logan can't deal with me, and Logan has a high Veronica-bullshit tolerance. Piz is sweet and open. I'm prickly and very closed off. He wouldn't like being with me.

That thought makes my stomach twist. Maybe I'm not giving him enough credit.

He's leaning way back and staring at the ceiling. He passes a hand over his eyes and says, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I say, trying to make him stick with the denial game we silently agreed on.

"For this," he gestures at the gap and the awkwardness between us.

Alright, fine, I think, we're facing it head on now. "It's not just you. I'm not handling it so well."

"How about this," he says, facing me now and gaining back some of his enthusiasm, "You pretend that you know nothing. I'll get over it soon enough. It's just a crush, right? I'll just find a replacement crush. Over in no time. Eventually this will just be something that we laugh about."

I smile at him, pushing down on the ache that seems to come out of nowhere.

"Oh!" he says, snapping his fingers, "Parker!"

"Yeah, she's over you. Sorry."

"Hm," he doesn't seem that put out.

"I thought she wasn't your type."

"Well, no. I guess not. But I mostly said that because of the thing that we're forgetting ever happened."

"Ah."

Somehow, this conversation actually helps. We start chatting about Wallace's consistently extreme study habits, and about Piz's latest explosive radio show.

Then the source shows up, and I'm all business.

----

Two days later, Logan reveals who he slept with while we were apart, and I find it inexcusable. It's a betrayal of the worst kind. This time, like all the other times, I'm sure the breakup will stick.

----

My friends are there to cheer me up, and this time I let them. Wallace takes a few hours from his busy study schedule to clock some much needed hang out time. We watch movies and mock them relentlessly.

When I feel ready, and Parker has sufficiently worn me down, we go out on the town and let guys buy us drinks. It doesn't go over as well as it should, because they're offended when we test the drinks with bits of coasters before drinking them. We end up dancing with each other.

Piz organizes another bowling outing, and this time everyone shows. Piz and I are on a team, and we lose spectacularly. The others play a second game, but Piz and I turn our bowling shoes in, and situate ourselves at the deserted bar, ordering a beer and an amaretto sour respectively.

I stab at the cherries at the bottom of my glass with a green plastic sword. Conversation flows easily.

"This was supposed to be fun," Piz says.

"We're just not bowlers." I sip my drink daintily from a tiny straw.

"No, everyone is a bowler. Bowling is something everyone can do."

"Maybe we should try another sport?"

"You use the word 'sport' loosely, right?"

"Bar sports, my friend, bar sports."

Piz glances around, "Well, there's darts, and air hockey."

"Oooh! Air hockey!"

Piz raises his eyebrows and laughs, "Oh-kay. Air hockey it is. That is the only drink you've had tonight, correct?"

"Yes," I say as we make our way over to the machine, "I just kick ass at air hockey."

I trounce him. He's not as upset about losing at this as he was about bowling. He grins and shakes his head when I score three times in quick succession.

"So, Wallace tells me you've been dating."

Piz laughs shortly, "No, not dating. A date. And it… well, it was a disaster, really."

I have to know. I use my best getting-information-out-of-a-reluctant-source face. Piz recognizes the look but goes along with it, "It was a girl from my English class. She was… she was a Hasselhoff album."

It takes me a second, but I get the allusion. I stir my drink with the tiny straw. It's really hard to tamp down the grin that wants to blossom on my face. I don't succeed. The air hockey table is between us. I have an urge to move towards him, but I can't get my feet to obey.

He rests his hands on the table, and looks up at me. His eyes are hopeful. "I know we promised to forget about it, but… maybe it's too soon anyway." He looks away and shakes his head, making up his mind.

He puts quarters into the machine and holds up the puck. "You still wanna play?" He's smiling rather bravely. Thoughts of how _harmless_ and sweet and downright adorable he is run through my head. How he's the complete _opposite_ of Logan…

I set my drink down, and walk towards him, feeling determined.

"Yes." I'm standing too close now, placing a tentative hand on his chest, and I know he gets it, because his face gets serious and his eyes get dark. He kisses me and it feels safe, so I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and he puts his hands on my hips. Then the space is gone, and it doesn't feel safe, but it doesn't feel dangerous.

He pulls away first, smiling like he can't help himself. It's infectious, and for the first time since Logan and I broke up I feel like laughing.

"Okay," he says, locking his hands behind my waist, "That was… totally worth it."


End file.
